Physical Therapy
by runs with sissors
Summary: Ok here we go again! Cameron has to undergo some Physical Therapy, but there's a secret behind her therapist's 'great' personality. Can House save the day? Will Cameron, Cuddy and Wilson let him? Find out! COMPLETE!
1. Default Chapter

Physical Therapy 

_Disclaimer: Gosh darn it, but I don't own it! Phooey._

"Could you slow down a bit?" Dr. Gregory House, MD asked his duckling, Allison Cameron.

"Sure. I hadn't realized I was walking so fast." She took several steps backwards and stepped even with him.

"I think we should get a gigantic cake, and then pay Cuddy to jump out of it." House suggested. Sounded like a riot to him.

Cameron cocked her head to the side as if considering it, but instead said, "I like my idea better. A lifetime subscription to some sort of medical journal."

House rolled his eyes as he limped along. "Yeah, that's just what every doctor wants for their birthday. Now, no matter where Wilson goes, the medical industry follows. He'll crack in a week!"

They rounded the corner and entered the stair well, but Cameron stopped. "Oh, how stupid of me. We need to take the elevator."

House waved the comment away. "Nah. I need some exercise anyway." He carefully took his left leg and put it on the first stair. His cane and right leg followed. He repeated this until he was down onto the first landing, and prepared himself for the next flight.

Cameron checked her watch. "You look like a complete idiot. Did you know that?"

"Shut up."

Cameron chuckled as she raced past him down the next flight. House could no longer see her, but he could still hear her.

_Stepstepstepstep…pause…thudthudthud…WHAM! "Shit!"_

House's heart skipped a beat. "Cameron, are you okay?"

"Shit!"

"Cameron?" He quickened his pace until he could see her at last. She was in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the stairs, cholking back tears.

"What happened?" _Stupid question,_ House immediately thought.

"What do you think happened?" She made a whimpering sound.

"I deserved that," he said, finally reaching her. "What hurts?" He asked.

"My ankle, my hip, my side, and something else that will-" She gasped in pain as House slid a hand under her ankle. "Remain nameless."

House held a smirk as he sat down on the ground next to her and prodded around at Cameron's leg. "Does this hurt?"

"Yes, it hurts, bastard!" Cameron shot back. House's eyebrow went up as he put her leg back down.

"Well, I don't think it's broken. Sprained maybe, but not broken. You'll need to get it checked out by someone other than myself."

Cameron propped herself up on her elbows. "So you can't help me at all?" House frowned.

"No. I'll refer you to someone who can. That is, if we ever get back to civilization." He said, referring to the small stairwell. House grabbed the railing and pulled himself to his feet. "I can't carry you."

"Obviously." Cameron was propped up now, hands on ankle. "But we really are in a shit story, aren't we?" An hour up and an hour down these stairs." House shook his head in a contradictory manner and whipped out his cell phone. "Hi, Wilson? I'm in an interesting predicament here…"

An hour and a half later, Allison Cameron and her temporary cane limped out of exam room 9, assisted by Foreman. House watched in amazement as she walked past his office, purposefully not looking in. He ran to his door before she could get away.

"You have got to be kidding me!" House said with a laugh. "Dr. Arnold gave you a cane?"

Cameron rolled her eyes. "It's only temporary! Just to get out of the building."

"You could have used a crutch, but no, a cane would be funner!"

"I'm sure he did it just to mock you." Foreman said slyly.

"He doesn't even know me." House said. Her cane was nicer than his. "What's the diagnosis?"

"Sprain and some other crap that I don't remember." Said Cameron. "Stupid physical therapy for a month or so."

House tilted his head to the side. "Oh. Right. Good luck." He went back into his office. Cameron and Foreman looked at each other. _"That was weird."_ Cameron whispered.

"He's just jealous because he doesn't have a grip oh his like yours does. Let's go."

"Somehow, this doesn't seem right." House paced back and forth in his office, his yo-yo going up and down, up and down. Wilson was staring at his computer screen. What at, House didn't bother knowing.

"You're being stupid," Wilson said in a far-off voice, not concentration on House's problem.

"She's got a broken rib definitely, and bruises on her hip and breast, but a sprained ankle? I don't know."

Wilson tore his eyes away from the screen. "How do you know about the bruising?"

"I saw it when you picked her up. Her shirt came up a bit, and there was a bruise-"

Wilson waved his hand at him. "No, the other bruising."

"Oh. Cameron told me."

"She told you she had bruising on her breast?"

"No, but…never mind. It's not important."

Wilson rolled his eyes. "Why can't you get a sprained ankle from falling down stairs? My collage room mate did the same thing."

"No, it's not that. It's just, when you were helping Cameron up the stairs, I saw her try to put weight on her ankle, and pick it back up again, but it took her a second. Follow?"

"No." He said, flatly.

"When you sprain your ankle, it hurts like hell. Cameron sprained her ankle, right? So why didn't she pick her foot up faster?"

"So…you think she's faking it?"

"I don't know." House said. He stopped pacing and flopped down in a chair. All of the sudden, his eyes lit up. "Lemme use you're computer."

"No way! Get your own?"

"What? In the middle of a great porno you just can't miss?" House made a lunge to see what Wilson was looking so intently at. "Oh, Jesus. It's Cuddy. What the hell?" Wilson had made Cuddy his screen savor. "Why'd you do that?" House asked in disgust.

"Wait a second," Wilson said. He clicked on his paint icon and added a purple mustache to Cuddy's upper lip and then clicking "OK". It looked pretty funny.

"That's more like it." House said, leaning back. "She looks good like that." He left.

Wilson made sure the coast was clear before carefully going back into paint and eracing the mustache from Cuddy's face. He then hit "OK."

_Oh, guys, that was soooo bad! I feel like I should revise it, and I may. Thanks for bearing with me, I'm just getting it started! Reviews welcome, how can I know who reads without reviews?_


	2. Dr Taylor Arnold

Disclaimer: Ok let's face it- that whole Cuddy/Wilson thing was screwed up, so just forget about it. I may revise the first chapter, but only if I've got enough energy. However, I had a stroke of brilliance and have decided to make Cuddy a big part of the story…oops, I've said too much! So, on with the show. PS- Thanks for all of the reviews- you guys are wicked awesome! (snaps) And, ok, I've never really undergone Physical Therapy before, but some people I know have, so please be forgiving.

**Biniffany**- OMG you watch Gilmore Girls, too? I think we may have been separated at birth…

**Jeevesandwooster- **yeah, I decided the screensaver thing was crap, but it was like, 2:00am in the morning, ya know?

P.Klutz- what kind of person would I be without a lil House/Cam? Huh? Physical Therapy Chapter 2 Cameron sat on the exam room bed, dangling her feet. She looked around the room, realizing she had scarcely been on the sixth floor, and therefore never been in this particular room. The walls were faded blue and white; there was a desk in the corner and children's books in a wicker basket, along with a baby doll with three or four hairs and blue lips, obviously the attempt at lipstick by a five-year-old. Just then the clicked open, and there stood Dr. Arnold. 

He was 5'6", hazel eyes, and oak-tree bark colored hair. Perfect.

"_He looks like Wilson!" _Cameron thought suddenly, and reeled back in disgust.

Dr. Arnold gave her a funny look. "What was that?"

"Oh," Cameron said, realizing what she must have looked like. "Pain in my ankle."

Arnold (as I am going to call him) sat down at the desk and began scribbling something on an important-looking paper. "About you're ankle," he said, not looking up. "How is it?"

"Oh, it hurts."

He gave a small snort. "That's normal, seeing as you've sprained it."

"Right."

"Where is the pain located?"

Cameron pointed. "Around my Achilles, an the ankle bone."

Arnold stopped writing for a second and looked at her, as if he had no idea what she was talking about.

" Pretty much all over," she clarified.

"Right." He snapped back to All-Important doctor mode

"_Weird." _She thought.

"What's the diagnois, doc?" She smiled a bit. Arnold got up and looked closely at her ankle.

"Funny," he said in his voice. His sexy voice.

"_Shit!"_ Cameron thought. _"I cannot be attracted to him!"_

Carefully, Arnold undid the bandages. Her ankle was red and puffy, with a big purple splotch over the fleshy place between her heel and protruding anklebone. It looked gross.

"Yep, some physical's gonna do you good." He said, examining her ankle like it was a piece of Atlantis someone had dug up.

"When do I start?"

"When the swelling goes down. Or when the bruise goes away. Whatever comes first." He smiled; she giggled. "_Shit!" _She thought again.

"Can you prescribe any medicine?"

For the second time in three minutes, Dr. Arnold looked utterly confused for a millisecond. Then, "I don't think anything other than Advil. It can make the swelling go down."

Cameron was drooling too much to say, 'duh.'

"So, I guess I can give you this," he said, going to the closet and getting a pair of crutches out. "Instead of this." He took her cane away.

"How do they feel?" He asked, helping her up and into them. They fit perfectly.

"Great!"

"Have you ever used crutches before?"

Cameron wanted desperately to say, "No…teach me!" But she didn't.

"Yeah, a few years ago, I… Never mind." She turned her head away and bit her lip, thinking, _"He must think I'm completely incompetent!"_

Arnold smiled a toothy smile of bleached- white teeth. "Good. So, you can go."

Cameron didn't want to go, but she took her crutches and left graciously. He stopped her midway through the door by a firm hand on her arm.

"Um…Ms. Cameron?"

"Call me Allison."

"Okay, Allison. I was wondering, if you don't think I'm too much of a creep…would you mind seeing a movie with me sometime?"

Cameron stopped to look into his eyes, hoping for a spark. There was no spark; she didn't fall into his eyes. She wish she could, but there wasn't anything to get lost in…they were hollow.

"Sure, Dr. Arnold."

"Call me Taylor."

"Taylor Arnold. Okay, Taylor. How about…two weeks from Saturday. Maybe my stupid ankle will be better."

"Okay. Sure. Sounds good."

She crutched away. "Later!" She called over her shoulder.

Back in his office, Ryan Enkelmann, aka 'Taylor Arnold', made a phone call as he smirked to himself.

_Wow! That added a nifty new twist, didn't it? REVIEW OR DIE! Thanks.._


	3. Suspicions

_Look! I updated in 2 days! Ha! No curse for me!_

Physical Therapy 

Chapter 3

The next Monday, Cameron walked into the break room, already with a piping hot coffee and a scone, both from Starbucks. She sat down at the table and began to read the New York Times. Foreman entered, and stood in front of her for a while before he spoke.

"You've already got coffee and breakfast..." His brow furrowed." So, why are you in the break room? This is reserved for people without any money!"

"I'm meeting someone here." She said, not looking up from her paper. Foreman turned his back to get a Pop tart from the box.

"House?" He said to himself, scoffing.

"No!" Cameron almost spat out her coffee. It wasn't very good, quite frankly. "I am meeting Dr. Arnold here. We're discussing times for my therapy."

"Right. Just that?" He was obviously not fooled.

"Yes, just that, Foreman." She ignored him while he shook his head, rolled his eyes, and walked out without his Pop tart. Minutes later, Cameron sensed another presents in the room. It was Taylor.

"Hi!" She said, suddenly giddy. She hated the way she got around him. It was so unlike her. So out of character. She had never acted like this, never! Not even in grade school, where she ran around, trying to plant kisses on the boys, or in middle school where she had liked a different boy every other day. Not even then. Maybe she liked him differently. Maybe.

"Good morning, Allison." He said, sitting across from her at the small table. "Did you have a good time Saturday?"

"Yes. The place you took me was very romantic."

"Good. That's what I was hoping for." He smiled; she giggled. Why was she so goddamn giddy?

"The wine was delicious. Once, I went to a restaurant, and the wine was awful. It made the whole meal taste…. Should I shut up? I'm babbling, and I look like a complete idiot."

"No, it's okay. I read somewhere that when a girl babbles, she really likes the guy she's babbling to." His eyes softened. Then, he kissed her.

Dr. House stood in the doorway, watching all of this, slack-jawed. When Taylor leaned in for the kill, and then pounced…. it felt like someone had taken a pair of knitting needles and stabbed him in his chest. He took a step backwards, clutching his cane. He blinked. He walked away.

"He kissed her? Or she kissed him?" Wilson was sitting in House's chair, balancing a hackysack on his nose.

"He kissed her." House was deeply bothered. He had no idea why.

"That's a horse of another color, if I may steel the quote from the "Wizard of Oz."

"It is?"

"Well, you didn't stick around to see if she pulled away or not."

"Like hell I didn't."

"So, you think she returned the kiss?"

House ran a finger through his hair, ruffling it. "Yup."

The hackysack slid off of the side of Wilson's head and onto the floor. He retrieved it. "Why does this bother you? You don't like Cameron, do you?"

House's head snapped to the side, like he was having a spasm at the mere suggestion. "No, James, I do not." He began to pace.

"I just don't want her to get involved with Arnold. He seems...bad. Like, evil. Vogler evil. I don't think he's a real doctor."

This time, Wilson's head snapped to the side.

"You don't think he's a real doctor? Ha! How do you figure that?"

"I just have this feeling…and with his diagnosis…" He trailed off.

"You just think he doing this physical therapy to get in Cameron's pants," Wilson stated.

"That's it! That's exactly it!"

"You're acting like her father."

"I'm certainly old enough to be her father."

They sat in silence, deep in thought. Then, Wilson spoke up, "why not go ask Cuddy?"

"What?"

"Ask Cuddy about Arnolds…you know…credibility? Is that the word I'm looking for?"

House was already out the door before Wilson finished his sentence.

House barged into Cuddy's office, just as Cuddy was setting down to talk to…speak of the devil…Dr. Arnold.

"Cud-" He said, but stopped midway through, spying Dr. Arnold. "Shit."

"Good morning, Dr. House," Cuddy said, with more than just a twinge of annoyance in her voice.

"I'll just leave…" He said, turning towards the door, ready to make a quick getaway.

"Dr. House! I don't believe we've met." Dr. Arnold stood up, stretching his hand out to meet Houses'. "I'm Dr. Taylor Arnold."

House grimaced as he shook Arnold's hand. "Yeah, I know you. You're seeing Allison Cameron. My duckling."

Arnold cocked his head to the side, not understanding the poultry remark, but went on shaking as if nothing had happened.

House continued, "So, how is she?"

Arnold paled a bit. "She's…well. Bruising, swelling, the whole enchalada, but she'll be fine after undergoing…."

"Some physical therapy." House finished.

"Right."

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "Dr. House, could you chat some other time? Dr. Arnold and I have business to attend to."

House pretended to look distraught. "Oh, yes. Of course. Don't mind little old me." Cursing to himself silently, he left Cuddy's office. He'd just have to wait until later. In the meantime, he had research to do. A hell of a lot of research to do.

_Yes, that line IS from the WOO. (lol, Wizard of Oz.) Dorothy and the crew go to the Emerald City, and the gatekeeper won't let them in, so she says she's got the Wicked Witch's slippers, and the gatekeeper says, "Well, that's a horse of a different color." Don't you remember? Tell me if you do!_


	4. The Drug Dealer

  
_Yes, Vogler may have quit…but evil never dies._

Physical Therapy 

Chapter 4

"He deals drugs!" House said, slamming a stack of freshly- printed paper down on Wilson's desk. 

"Who? What?" Wilson had been on his way to dreamland, but Dr. House had dragged him back down to earth.

"Ryan Enkelmann…whoops, Taylor Arnold, DEALS DRUGS!" House stared right into Wilson's eyes.

"Really?"

"Yes, Wilson! Weak up and read this:" He said, thrusting the papers at him. It was a newspaper article from Medford, Oregon. 

"I've never heard of Medford before," said Wilson.

"Nobody has. Just read, whilst I bask in my greatness."

James Wilson frowned. "You do that."

He read:

"The Medford Star" 

June 23, 2002

"Ryan Enkelmann was arrested today at the US Bank, located just outside of Medford yesterday. His alias ("Taylour Arnold") was revealed by local illegal Crystal Meth, or 'angel dust' dealers a week ago. They said, "He must have a meth lab in his basement, man, because we know he's got it." - Ralph Buchanan, drug dealers. Enkelmann had also cheated the dealers out of their marijuana, but that's another article…"

The article went on to say more about other things Enkelmann had done, like bank heists and such. The papers behind the Medford Star described such felonies.

"Look! There's a report from Pheonix in 1994 and two years later in Alpine, Texas!" House was in frenzy. "And here, he even went so far as to rob some little old lady's home in Carrolton, Missouri. How low will he go?"

Wilson smirked. "Apparently low enough to try to trick a woman in New Jersey in 2005. He does more than deal drugs. Shit, House. He was arrested for assaulting his girlfriend in 3 out of the four states."

"He switched his name in every town, see? And in Medford, it was spelled with a 'u.' Wait…what did you say?"

"He assaulted his girlfriend. Brutal assault."

"Oh, shit."

"That's bad."

"Oh, shit," He repeated.

"But…why's he working in a hospital?

"Don't know," House said, flopping down into a chair. "But we got to get this guy away from Cameron." He leaned forward, motioning for Wilson to lean in. "You believe me, don't you?"

Wilson nodded. "I will help you in anyway I know how."

House eased up a bit. "Good. Wait…why do you believe me? I mean, knowing me, I'm not one to be trusted."

"House, you haven't said a rude or snide thing in a week. You're serious about this, I can see that."

For the second time in three days, Wilson and House fell into silence, deeply thinking. Then, House piped up.

"So, how do we break this to Cameron?"

"Good question. We have to be gentle on her."

"Yeah. And we can't flat out tell her 'by the way, you're boy friend sells drugs and beats women up.'" He winced again.

Dr. Wilson nodded slowly. "The only way to see her reaction is if we try. Let's go tell her." He got up and made his way to the door.

"Should we take the papers?" House questioned.

Wilson shook his head. They both left, a purpose in their step.

They found Cameron mixing sick- looking liquids in the lab. House cleared his throat before speaking.

"Uh, Cameron?"

"Yes, Dr. House?"

Wilson took an advancing step. "We've got some…er…news."

At this, Cameron turned around, looking genuinely concerned. "Oh, God. What is it?"

"It's about Ry- Taylor." House said.

"What about him? Is he…is he okay?" Cameron began to hyperventilate slightly. Stress was not good on her.

"I just think…maybe you should stop seeing him."

Cameron exhaled and rolled her eyes. "Jesus, House you scared me. I thought he was in an accident or something. Don't do that." She turned around and continued her combinations of chemicals. "Now, why don't you want me to see him? How did you even know I was seeing him?"

House shot an urgent look to Wilson, and mouthed at him _"How do I know that they're dating?"_

Wilson stepped up to the plate. "Oh, err, Foreman told me. I told House. Yeah." House frowned, and mouthed '_nice cover, James_.'

"Whatever." She shook her head.

"Well, he's not a very nice…person." House tried to explain. He was doing a shitty job of it.

"Whatever."

"He's done some things in his past that have…questionable legality."

"You're saying he's a criminal."

"Exactly!" Wilson blurted. House hit him upside the head.

"You guys are insane. He's perfectly fine. There is not a mean bone in his body."

"We have police reports on him, Cameron."

Cameron's face flushed with pink. She was getting pissed. "Liar."

"Why would I lie?"

"Because you're a bastard."

House took a step back. It wasn't the remark that shocked him. It was the fact that the remark came out of Cameron. It was like a bunny that had grown fangs; Cameron was never nasty.

"Well, gosh, Cameron, I already knew that, but I'm trying to help."

"No, you're not. This is you're idea of a joke." She turned on her heel, but Wilson caught up with her.

"Cameron, we would not tell you this if we did not mean it. He is not safe. You need to end you're relationship with him."

Her eyes flared as she looked at House with rage. "You've dragged _him _into this, too? You are too much, Dr. House. Too much." Her hands flew up as if surrendering, and she stormed out.

Wilson leaned up against the wall; House joined him.

"Well," Wilson stated. "That went well."

House hit him upside the head.


	5. Hit Me with your Best Shot

Physical Therapy 

Chapter 5

Later…(at House's house; tehehe)

Dr. House sat down at his kitchen table, watching a gnat fly around in front of him until he couldn't stand it, and then waved it away. He knew he shouldn't be stuck in a rut this early in the game, but all the same he was at a loss. What did he do now? He couldn't very well try Cameron again, could he? She would get all huffy and over protective again. Suddenly, he remembered Wilson's previous suggestion.

Cuddy.

He could get _her_ to fire _him_!

(_Him_ being Arnold, of course, not himself, being House.)

He grabbed his car keys and when out into the summer night.

_Ding- dong!_

Now, this was a pisser for Cuddy. The first time in literally a month where she was able to have a nice, sit-down, TV dinner with herself and her cat, and there was the damn doorbell.

She groaned and yelled, "It's open, who ever you are!"

To her great surprise and displeasure, it was House.

"Oh, good lord. What are you doing here? You should be at home, doing…whatever old guys do at home! I don't wanna know."

She looked distressed, her hair falling out of it's bun and various clothes items hanging everywhere; of the door and TV, and the classic bra-caught-on-the-door-handle thing. Plus, the orange cat was hissing at him with a look of great wickedness in its beady little eye.

"Though this is off-topic to the situation at hand, normally I would be doing…exactly what you are doing now. Only I wouldn't be watching Wheel of Fortune."

Cuddy switched off the television, almost embarrassed.

"So, what are you here for?"

House took a frilly white top from the seat of a chair and sat down on it.

"I need you to fire someone."

"I have already told you, Dr. House, I am not going to fire Dr. Wilson. The money he owes you from whatever bet is your business and yours alone."

House chuckled. "Thank you for reminding me, but no, I was thinking more along the lines of Dr. Arnold."

The slight trace of smile that had been on Cuddy's lips vanished. "Why?"

"I have my reasons."

Cuddy began to breath heavily. She looked nervous. What the hell was going on?

"Those would be…"

Dr. House threw the papers he had printed out previously onto the couch.

"That is a background check on one beloved Dr. Taylor Arnold. He's not a very nice guy, if you follow me."

Lisa Cuddy was acting very strange indeed. Her heart was thumping so loudly, House could hear it. She stared at the papers while House thought, and then, she began to cry.

And cry.

And cry.

"Dr. Cuddy, what's the matter?" House was truly lost. He had made one patient cry once, but that was a long time ago.

She didn't say anything, she just cried. It was a big stream of constant tears, rolling from her eyes, down her face, and onto her top.

House joined Cuddy on the couch. He kept his distance, because Cuddy was scaring him.

"Cuddy. What is the matter? Dirt to Cuddy!"

Nothing.

"Jesus, Cuddy, you're starting to annoy me."

Cuddy sniffed and sniffed again. "I know it all, House."

"You do? About Arnold?"

She nodded.

"Why the hell did you hire him, then?" He practically yelled in a panic.

"House, please don't yell." Cuddy kept her head down.

"Oh. Right. Sorry."

"I didn't have a choice, alright? I knew it all when I hired him, but…I didn't have a choice!" House knew she was delirious- she actually fell into House and began to cry into his shoulder. He felt a strange urge to put his hand on her back and pat it, but he restrained himself.

"Lisa, what do you mean, you didn't have a choice?"

Through the muffled tears, he could make out her story:

"He…came to me…a while…ago," she said, her sentence broken by sobs. "He…told…me…if I didn't hire him…he'd…he'd…he'd…" Tears once more, but House had heard enough. This had gone way too far.

He let her cry into his shirt for a few more seconds before pushing her away gently. He got a glimpse of her face; saltwater trails lined her face and her eyes were discolored and puffy. She looked awful.

"Lisa, did he threaten you?"

She nodded, drying her tears with pair of pants she had swiped from the side of the couch.

"I didn't have a choice. I had to. I'm so sorry; I knew it was wrong."

House didn't say anything.

"Is that all?" She said, looking at her cat and not at the doctor she was facing.

"Yes. Thank you."

The next morning, Wilson was waiting in House's office when he came in, armed with more papers and a fresh bottle of Vicoden, of which he opened and swallowed two or three before speaking.

"Taylor Arnold is no doctor," House said.

"I thought we had already established that fact." Wilson raised an eyebrow.

"I wasn't finished. I talked to Cuddy yesterday. Went to her house, for god's sake," House stopped. "No pun intended."

"Good! What did she say?"

"She barely said anything…she mostly cried. Dr. Arnold threatened her to hire him." Suddenly, it dawned on him; he had gone to see Cuddy in the middle of a meeting with Arnold!

"Oh, shit!" House exclaimed.

Wilson was startled. "What?"

House grabbed his cane and quickly walked to Cuddy's office. He peered around the corner and looked in without her seeing.

She was inspecting her arm, which was adorned with a big black and blue spot right on the bicep, where no one could see if you wore the right shirt. She stroked at it, giving a cry out in pain.

He went back to his office, where Wilson was waiting, in shock.

"Son of a bitch!" The cane rose and fell, thumping and nearly breaking on the seat of a chair.

"What the hell?"

"I lied. He didn't threaten her, he hurt her! Giant bruise, right on her arm! Probably other places, too. I'm afraid to know." House spoke in broken sentences.

"What do we do? We know he's dangerous, but Cameron doesn't, and she's not going to believe us."

Dr. House shook his head, inspecting the cane he had nearly broken in two.

"No idea. Should I go see Cameron again?"

"What have you got to loose?"

"I'll see her on break."

"Want me to go check up on Cuddy." Wilson wasn't asking.

"Sure. I don't care if you tell her…just make sure the damned Taylor doesn't go within 10 feet of her, or I'll be forced to bash his head in half."

"Will do." Wilson left the office, and House stood alone, for a long time. He really didn't know what to do. He felt so lost.

"Cameron?"

Cameron looked to see who was addressing her, and when she saw House approaching her, she rolled her eyes.

"Cameron?" He repeated.

"What do you want?"

"Nothing. Just…"

"I'm busy."

"_Like hell you are," _House muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. I was just wondering…hit me."

"Excuse me?"

"Hit me in the arm. Hard as you can."

"No!" She looked appalled.

"Why not?"

"Because…"

"Because you're afraid you'll hurt the cripple? Knock me over?"

"Maybe."

"You serious? Puh-leeze." He was trying to lighten the mood; a mad Cameron was not exactly an asset to him or any of the patients she would treat.

"Why do you want me to hit you?"

"Just…show me that you can."

"Seriously?"

"Don't try to tell me that you've never wanted to hit me."

"True, that would be a lie."

"So now you've got your chance. Hit me in the arm, for god's sake. You don't get this chance every day."

"Okay…" She looked unsure. "You're positive?"

"Yes. Hit me."

She barely slapped it.

"C'mon, I know you're stronger than that."

This time, it was more of a thud.

"Wimp, " House teased.

"What did you call me?" Cameron asked, in almost a flirty way.

"I called you a wimp. And, you're boyfriend sells drugs."

"Huh?"

"I said," House said, yelling so he get her to become really angry. Maybe she would take all of her anger out in his arm. "You're boyfriend sells drugs!"

Cameron raised her fist and gave him the hardest punch he had ever had. He flew backwards on his bad leg, falling to the ground on his ass. She came over and put her foot on his chest, almost in triumph.

"Don't you ever," she warned, breathing heavily with anger, "Insult Taylor again. Understand?"

House nodded, but couldn't help throwing in a comment. "You know, from this angle, if you were wearing a skirt, I could see you're underwear."

Cameron took her foot off of his chest. "See you around." She replied. Hopefully that meant no hard feelings.

He had tested her to see if she could protect herself if Taylor ever got rough and tumble with her. The fact that she had practically broken the bone should have put his mind at ease…too bad it didn't, and House had a feeling that no matter how hard she hit, it wouldn't.

_What happens next? It may look like I'm stuck in a ditch, but I'm not…I've got an angle…and what did I say about Cuddy? I said she was going to be a big part and lookey, there she is! _

_Tune into the next episode of Physical Therapy to find out!_

_-Thanks,_

_Sissors._


	6. Thank Goodness for Foreman!

_OMG people, I am soooo sorry I haven't updated! You've probably lost interest;I hope not! It was my last week of school, and I just never got around to it… Please forgive me, I am your humble servant._

_Well, here's the next part of it. Enjoy please._

_And, yes, Gypsy, you did miss something on the show! But I'm sure you'll catch up._

Physical Therapy

Chapter 6 

House would have taken a little nap there on the ground, but Foreman came in about a minute after Cameron had left, and House didn't like the thought of Foreman watching him sleep.

"What are you doing?" Foreman asked, bewildered.

"I'm taking a nap, can't you tell?"

"Well, you just stay there, do us all a favor."

"Did I deserve that?" House asked, indicating to Foreman to help him up, and, despite his comments, he obliged.

"Why were you on the floor?"

"Cameron hit me and I fell."

"Ha! Really?"

House glared at the dark-skinned doctor. "I could fire you for that."

Foreman shook his head but said no more, and got to whatever work he was in that room to do, digging through a file. House was about to leave when he got an idea. He stopped in the threshold of the door and backtracked, walking coolly over to the place where Dr. Foreman was digging.

"Dr. Foreman, how would you like to make an easy ten bucks?"

Foreman looked House up and down. "Will this put my job on the line?"

"No, but maybe you're ass."

After considering, Foreman said, "alright, I'm listening."

"Good. I need you to tell me what's up with Arnold and Cameron."

"That's easy- they're dating."

"No, I need you to tell me when they're going on they're next date and location. Simple."

"Why?"

"Oh yes, I forgot that W. And why…"

"No, I'm asking. Why?"

"No time for questions, man! I need you to figure this out ASAP."

"When do I get my money?"

"Is that all you care about?"

House paused. "I can't think of a remark to that, but when I think of one, I'll find you. Now go!"

He pushed Foreman out the exit, into the hallway, and closed the door to block out the sound of the protesting doctor. Now, for that nap…

Wilson spun around childishly in his swivel chair as House played the Game Boy. They were both very nervous, waiting for the news. It was like they were a married couple, waiting for the news of a pregnancy test. Just as the androids ships shattered Captain House's last destroyer on Alien's Attack IV, Foreman burst the door open, looking very pleased with himself.

He addressed House. "You needed to know where and when, right?"

"Yes!"

Foreman paused. "…Why is he here?" He said. He meant Wilson.

"Oh, he's drunk or something. Ignore him. Notice the swivel chair?"

"Hey, I'm not…" Wilson got up from his swivel chair to protest, but swerved off to the side and crashed into Houses' desk. "Drunk."

"Ignore him, Eric! Now, what's the information?"

"Okay. After much prodding and polking, she told me they would be at the Cajun Restaurant at 6:00 on Friday, and that I shouldn't tell House or Wilson, or else she would rip out all of my fingernails."

House's brow was already furrowed, studying the carpet with great contemplation. He said, "We can keep you're nails in tact, Foreman," in a far-off voice.

"Money, please?"

"Oh yeah…" House handed him the $20 bill instead of the $10 dollar bill, but Foreman took it without a word.

When Dr. Wilson was able to stand on his own two feet without the aid of a desk or chair or any other inanimate object, he stood up and walked uneasily over to his colleague.

"What was that all about?"

House smiled to himself. "Do you want me to tell you my plan that even surprises myself?"

"Pray tell," Wilson said, genuinely interested.

_Ha ha, I left you hanging…what will I do now? Throw me a line and maybe I'll think about updating…and I promise I'll update sooner; I feel so bad! lol_


	7. The 2nd Date, part I

Physical Therapy 

Chapter 7

"Cameron," House said, doing his best jogging impression, trying to catch up with her. She ignored him, and he couldn't blame her for doing so. Would he believe Cuddy if she told him his girlfriend-yeah, right- sold drugs? Well, would he?

"_I would now, anyways," _House said out-loud to himself.

"What was that?" Cameron turned on her heel. She probably thought he had said something degrading or insulting. He couldn't blame her for that assumption, ether.

"At last! She speaks!" House said, trying to joke. Cameron got in the elevator; House made a lunge to get in next to her, but she blocked him with her arm.

"No. What ever it is you're trying to tell me, I don't care. I know Foreman told you about my date with Taylor; I could see that a mile away. But, I swear to god, Greg, if you do anything funny…" She had purposely put emphasis on 'Greg,' just to scare the hell out of him. Before she could finish, the doors closed and Cameron was no more.

Dr. House sighed and turned around, and began walking back to his office. Allison Cameron was not one to reason with; nor would she ever be. But he had to try…and he had failed. He passed Cuddy in the hall, arms pressed tightly against her sides.

"What's up, Dr. Cuddy?" He asked, trying to be (though the word made him quiver) sweet.

"I am…doing better." She said, her eyes ever so slightly red and puffy. This made House practically fume.

"Good." He didn't say anything more, but continued to walk to his office.

"House?" Cuddy called after him. "Where are you going?"

He gave a quick, half smile. "To make a phone call. I have a rendezvous with destiny."

Allison Cameron carefully examined each and every gentleman that walked through the red oak doors of **D. Lowe Madison's Cajun Food**. It didn't sound like a very nice restaurant, but the service was superb and the food its self was freaking awesome. So, quietly, in a black and red crushed velvet dress (with pretty trimming on the front), black high-heeled shoes and hair in an intricate bun, she watched. What Cameron didn't know, however, was that someone was watching her.

Finally, at about 7:20, she saw her date arrive and check in with the waiter at the front. Cameron smiled and waved, but didn't have the inclination to run up and greet him like she would have otherwise. She was still thinking about what House and Wilson had said.

Did she really believe this nice, sweet; perfect man could possibly hurt her? Could she possibly believe that his name wasn't even Taylor? She chose not to believe them. But, would House lie to her?

What was she thinking! Of course he would! In a heartbeat he would tell her some B.S. because he was jealous. House was so juvenile like that.

"Good evening, Allison," Taylor spoke in a chipper voice.

"Good evening to you, too," Cameron said. She was surprised at her own words; they had a tint of trouble in them. The matter behind the words was a question waiting to be asked. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore.

"Taylor, what's your real name?"

Arnold's head shot up from the menu, his face lightly pink. "Taylor Benjamin Arnold, ma'am." He said, saluting her like a drill sergeant.

Cameron blushed. "I'm so sorry I asked, hon. I just…flipped out."

"Why?" His voice was barely kidding, and much more serious.

"Oh, this stupid doctor…at work…Dr. House…told me…this fake story. It was so obviously fake, but I just had to make sure." She paused, taking in a sharp breath. "You wouldn't lie to me, would you?"

Taylor smiled. "No, never. I love you, Allison Cameron. You can trust me, because I trust you."

Cameron sat up straight. "You do? You love me?"

"Yes."

"Oh. And…and I love you, Taylor Arnold," she said awkwardly. It was a lie. She wanted to love him, really she did, but something was holding her back. The allegations? No. It was House. He was holding her back, and she didn't even know why.

"Well, as long as we're being honest…" Cameron said, giggling and leaning in closer, so no body else could hear her. She took a sip of her water in the crystal glass before speaking.

"Once, a long time ago, I liked House."

Taylor smirked. "Why?"

Cameron giggled again, trying not to get too giddy. "I don't know. I feel like such an idiot now."

"He doesn't seem like a very nice guy."

"That's what he said about you." They both laughed. Suddenly, Taylor took her hand.

"Well, you can forget him now. It's just us." Since they're faces were already so close together, it wasn't much for him to lean in and kiss her. Just before their lips connected, Cameron tried once more to look deep into his eyes; to be lost inside them. Alas, it didn't happen. Then, she felt a hand on her thigh. She drew back.

"Ow." Taylor said, his hand flying up to his mouth, as if he had been bitten.

The hand was removed.

"What was that?" She asked, confusion and anger pulsing through her veins.

"Sorry, I just thought…"

"Well, don't. I'm just…not ready."

"Okay, Allison, chill out."

"Sorry."

Taylor wasn't bleeding, so he leaned in again, in hopes to kiss her. Cameron's mental little red flag went up, but despite Jiminy Cricket's warning, she ignored it. She felt the hand again, however, on her leg, under the table. She pulled out of the kiss once more.

"I thought I told you, **no,**" Cameron said, this time grabbing his hand and holding it tightly.

"Fine then! Ow, you'll break my hand!" He muttered something that sounded like 'bitch.'

"What the hell did you just call me?"

"Nothing, Allison! Nothing. Calm down."

Now Cameron's little red flag was being thrashed about, desperately trying to get her attention.

"Stop, alright, or I'm leaving," Cameron warned.

"Fine," Arnold said, exasperated. Cameron hurriedly scanned the menu and ordered. They both sat in silence until the food arrived. Half way through the meal, Taylor dared to speak again.

"I like that dress a lot. It looks very good on you."

Cameron blushed. "Why, thank you. That was very nice of you to mention." She smiled.

"Take off the scarf," Taylor commanded, motioning to the scarf Cameron had draped around her shoulders to keep her warm.

Cameron was about to spear a leaf of lettuce in her salad, but paused.

"I'd rather not."

"Why not?"

"I just don't want to. I'm cold."

"Take it off; I want to see the top part of the dress."

"You can see it just fine with the scarf- all you're missing are my shoulders."

"Then I want to see your shoulders.

"I just told you, Taylor, no." She looked him in the shallow eye. Before she could stop him, he had lunged at her scarf, and ended up tearing the thin strap of her dress. She gasped.

"What the hell?" She said, a lot louder than she had intended to. Everyone in the restaurant turned to look at her. "Can't you just take a hint, Arnold? **NO!" **She rose up out of her chair as she said this.

"Alright, Allison! Alright!" He said, throwing down his menu and standing up as well. He was trying to lunge for her, but she stabbed his hand with a fork. Suddenly, in the back, a menu fell to the ground and the tabled almost toppled over as a tall man with a cane tried to come to the assist of the young damsel in distress. As all of this was happening, a team of policeman practically burst down the door, demanding to know where Ryan Enkelmann was.

Oh! The cliff hanger to end all cliff hanger. Update soon, unless you don't want me to…


	8. The 2nd Date, part II

Was it just my computer, or was the URL down for, like, ever? Maybe it was just a few days. I guess it doesn't matter, because I wasn't able to update until now. So, here it is, the conclusion to my tale.

_And I'm so happy, because it's summer for me, so I'll be able to write more and more! Aren't you excited?_

**Physical Therapy**

**Chapter 8**

Arnold reached out to grab Cameron's arm, but before he could take a hold of it, Cameron punched him in the shoulder, not unlike that of the punch she had inflicted on House. Taylor stumbled backwards and tripped over the chair, causing a chain reaction. The wreckage seemed to make Arnold even angrier, as he lunged once more at poor Cameron.

With a yelp, Cameron tripped Arnold, and then attempted to leap out of the way, but landed on her bad foot and crumpled in a heap. By this time, House had gotten over to the fight and decided to become involved, despite Wilson's warnings of, "Don't go over there! He'll kill you!"

House planted a fist on the left side of Taylor's jaw, as Cameron's. Then, grabbing his collar, he swung him 180 degrees and let go, pushing him to the ground. With his cane, he pinned him down.

Breathing heavily, he spoke. "I knew about you all along. Don't try this again. Not on Cameron anyways…she could kick your ass in a heartbeat, as you so recently have seen…Ryan."

He glanced over where Cameron lay and drew a sharp breath; she wasn't moving.

"Don't move, or else." House glared down at Ryan, letting him use his imagination.

As House grabbed his cane and limped over to Cameron, afraid of what he would find, two policemen clutched ether of Ryan Enkelmann's forearms, while a third proceeded to chew him out and read him his rights. With a last glance at Cameron, House and Wilson, the police escorted Ryan out of the restaurant.

"James, how is she?" House dropped his cane and dropped to his knees with the aid of a nearby table. Allison moaned.

"Not good. Her ankle's really swelled now." Wilson pulled back Cameron's skirt to reveal a lovely blue, red and black ankle. House cringed.

Allison moaned.

"Bastard."

"Yeah, I know."

Cameron began to stir. She turned her head, and then her torso, upright.

"Was I unconscious?" She asked, her voice groggy and her words slurred.

Wilson tried to sound calm. "Yeah, you were. But your ankle is pretty screwed up."

"All that therapy down the tube in about 4 seconds," Cameron groaned.

"How's the rest of you? Can we move you?" House asked.

Cameron merely nodded. House and Wilson slung both of her arms around their necks and picked her up, careful not to bang her injured appendage against anything. They set her safely in a booth and gently propped her ankle up on the booth with her.

"Ice." House pointed a finger to the kitchen and stared straight at Wilson. Without a word, Wilson retrieved. House sat down on the same end of the booth as Cameron's now shoeless foot, and put her foot in his lap.

"That hurt?" He asked, once the ice was set on the top of Cameron's ankle.

"This sucks," she replied, point blank.

"That means it's good?"

"Whatever."

"Whatever. Is that even a word? It's more like two words, isn't it?"

Cameron's weary eyes stared into House's. "Could you please stop with the word games? I'm tired."

"Fair enough."

Silence. Tension. Then,

"Oh, forget this. It's driving me nuts." Cameron sat up right suddenly, supporting her weight on her elbows. By this time, her ankle was practically down to its normal size.

"What?"

"You were right." Pause. "Taylor was a criminal…I feel like an effing idiot. Are you happy?"

House looked at Cameron's foot in his lap. "Not at all."

"Enough with the word games!"

"Sorry. I didn't mean to confuse you," House stammered. "I tried to warn you. I knew you wouldn't listen."

"Because I'm stubborn," Cameron finished for him, flopping back down on the booth seat.

"Stubborn, yes. But that wasn't it. I knew you wouldn't listen because you have faith in people. I, however, have no faith in people, so I assumed Taylor wasn't a changed man."

Allison sat upright again. "House, don't kid yourself. You have faith in people, don't you? After all, you knew I wasn't going to listen to you. Therefore, you had faith that I wasn't going to listen." She smiled a bit.

"No, I just assumed."

"Assumptions, faith, same thing," Cameron said, trying not to giggle. She laid her head back on the seat and crossed her arms over her chest. "I still think I'm right."

House made a face that may have been a smile. "…And that's where the stubbornness plays into the equation." He picked the ice off of the ankle.

"Look, Cameron! We've let the air out of the balloon!"

Allison didn't even bother to look up. "Yep, I could feel it. I'll bet I can walk now."

"There's only one way to find out," Dr. House said, grabbing his cane and Cameron's crutch.

Two days later, Cameron dangled her feet off of the same padded chair she had two weeks earlier. This time, however, when the door handle turned, Dr. Gregory House stepped in the room.

"As much as I know you hate to hear this, but you're good to go," He announced.

Cameron's shoulders fell, in what seemed to be relief. "Thank God." She picked herself off the chair and tried to stand, but fell backwards. She started to giggle. "House, I don't know how you manage."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"It was…sort of."

House positioned himself next to her on the chair, and now they both dangled their feet off the side.

"I forgot to thank you," Cameron added.

"I'm confused."

Cameron put her hand up to sush him. "I want to thank you for kicking Taylor's ass."

"That wasn't for you, Cameron. That was for me."

Cameron ignored him. "And to apologize for not listening to you."

"Oh, please. I wouldn't listen to me, ether. You could have taken care of yourself, anyways."

Nevertheless, Cameron apologetically put her arm around House's waist, pulling herself closer to him and resting her head on his chest. House put his head on top of hers, smelling her hair, and then (to Cameron's great joy) affectionately kissed her forehead.

"That was sweet," she said, looking up at him.

"You looked like you needed it."

"I did." Cameron said, smiling and putting her head back on House's chest, listening to his heartbeat. "And I always will."

THE END

So…did we like? Was the ending too cheesy? Should I keep writing? Open to comments, critiques, criticisms, compliments and complaints, I am!

Thanks,

Siz.


End file.
